Team Rosie

Today has been Rosie Day.  Her parents (my friends) had to made the immeasurably difficult decision to amputate her leg below the knee, a leg that was broken and would never be able to heal.  So they chose to give her the best chance, a new leg upon which she can walk, run, dance, and probably launch into the stratosphere.  My admiration for Miriel and John grows every day, and I watch with awe as they take into strength and bravery I'm sure they don't fully realize they have, and I send them more reserves now that the first horrible part is over and they move into what comes next.  #TeamRosie always.

And Rosie.  Wow.  This girl went through a major surgery this morning and was trying to climb a couch this afternoon!  I guess she wasn't told she couldn't!  Clearly, she is a tiny, badass superhero and I cannot wait to see her as she grows.  She will not be stopped.

If you would, send some love and prayers and just some general good juju to this amazing family. 

Mondayest Monday

This morning, I adulted like a rock star, taking care of my mammogram and all the rest of my annual lady doctoring.  Then, I came home and cleaned the house in anticipation of the meeting that would be happening here tonight, re: Girl Scout cookies.  And then the monsoons hit, and the neighborhood flooded.  Like police barricades and flashing lights and no-you-can't-go-this-way flooded.  A few people made it for the meeting, so I gave them towels and cookies and helped them dry off their soggy shoes.  Now I get to clean up the puddles and muddy spots.  Monday, be done now.

Out There Somewhere

A couple of days ago, a thought popped violently int my mind.  "Oh no!  It's Amy's birthday and I almost missed it!  Must wish her a happy birthday right now!"  And then I stopped, took a beat, and realized, no, Amy's birthday was last month and I did indeed wish her a happy birthday like I always do.  I have no idea why that incorrect thought almost bowled me over, but it did make me think of our mutual friend, Heather, and the fact that her birthday really was coming up.  And it is, in fact, today.

Amy, Sarah, Heather, and I were the best of friends in high school.  We did everything together, including devising an elaborate punking (although we're older than that, so we would have used some other word) of all of our guy friends over the course of a single night.  We even gave it a name.  We were a squad before Taylor Swift made it popular.  Heather and I went off to the same college, which was a godsend because our school was huge and overwhelming and we needed each other as a safe, known place.  But then junior year, Heather joined a sorority, and, look, I have nothing against sororities.  I think they are positive organizations and help a lot of women find their people.  But in this case, Heather joining a sorority meant that she stepped farther and farther away from me.  Call it growth or time or whatever, but by the time graduation rolled around, I hadn't seen her in at least a year even though she lived across the sidewalk from me.

We saw each other once more, at our 10 year reunion, and for awhile we were Facebook friends until she went away from that, too, so I don't know where she is or what she's doing.  And I wish I did.  I miss our friendship.  She was a tiny little ballerina and a ball of fire all wrapped up in one package.  I'm happy to say that Amy and I still live near each other, and love to get our kids together (our oldest boys are just a few months apart) and hang out.  Sarah and I are many states apart, but when we talk on the phone, hours pass like minutes and it's like there's no distance at all.  But I miss our fourth.  So on her birthday, I send her all the good wishes I can.

Heather, I hope you get your pumpkin pie with a candle in it. 

Crashing the Party

Yesterday afternoon, we went to visit my grandmother, and walked smack dab in the middle of a fall festival.  They had a popcorn bar (you could make it spicy, sweet, and add things to it - pretty cool), lots of candy, hot cider (and beer for those who imbibe), and carnival games like tossing pennies in a cup, bean bag throwing, and guess how many M&Ms are in a jar.  The kids were in heaven.

A small note (of bragging) about my kids: they love to visit the residence where my grandma lives, and not just because they're having parties like this all the time.  They (particularly Sammy) genuinely enjoy visiting with all the people there and helping them out if they need anything.  And they're always up for picking up the chairs after a party is over (I do not know where this love of folding chairs comes from, but I will take the assistance, thank youand good night).

Sammy was annoyed when everyone started leaving to get ready for dinner - he knew there were 20 more minutes until the meal was served and he didn't want to lose valuable fun time. 

We ran into some friends whose grandmother had just moved in, and we did our best to make all of them feel welcome and comfortable in the new environment, since were old hats by now.  My grandma has already taken their grandma under her wing, showing her the ropes.  I hope we made them all feel like coming there was a good decision.

I have no pictures because honestly, we were just dropping by the say hello.  But just imagine the look of joy on a 92 year old woman's face when she learned she'd won $10 for the best penny toss score. 

The Sequel

Last week, I headed down to Austin for me second go-around with the ATX Television Festival.  It's no secret I love television.  It's my entertainment medium of choice, and I hold no aspersions of any refined taste.  I can love cheesy schlock as much as any critically acclaimed series, and I will never draw a line of distinction.  It's all wonderful to me.  OK, maybe not wonderful, but if I start a series and don't bail after a few episodes (which is rare), I'm with you until the end, bitter or otherwise.  In fact, I've been known to watch a series finale for a show I've otherwise never watched.  I'm that dedicated.

Someone on Twitter once asked what your dream job would be (training and salary notwithstanding), and my answer would be television critic, if not television writer outright.  How I didn't drift into this over the years is a mystery and sadness to me.  Eh, maybe there's still time.

Anyway, this time, I hopped in my car and made the trip solo this year (thank you, husband and parents).  I have to say, it's much better to have someone in the passenger seat and I hope I can rectify that in the coming years.  I made it in time to get all registered up and in line for the first panel I wanted to attend, only to see my friend and kind hostess Regan standing in the I Already Have a Golden Ticket So I Get in First line.  We texted (yes, texted - I am new to the 21st century and could finally do this) to make seating arrangements, and headed in.  

Now, listen.  Last year, I got mad at myself halfway through the weekend for not talking to the celebrities and panelists when clearly other attendees were doing just that and no one seemed to mind.  That's when I decided to toss my shy business to the birds and approach anyone I darn well pleased.  Did I look sound like an idiot sometimes? YES.  But I got some nice pictures and shook some hands (or uncomfortably hugged people, I don't remember) and got over my darn self, so WIN.  This was my approach going into this year.

Until this first panel about ratings and reviews (which was information and interesting and awesome), which included Tara Ariano or Mighty Big TV and Television without Pity fame (late of Previously.tv) whom I've followed forever and admired for truly mining the essence of snark and the television recap, and well, I just couldn't.  I should have because she seems like a class act who doesn't think her sushi won't spoil, and I'm kinda bummed I missed that opportunity.  Tara, I think you're amazing.  I hope I get a chance to make a fool of myself in front of you another time.

There were other talented critics whom I enjoy reading as well, but I went fangirl for Tara (whom I'm calling by her first name because obviously we are best friends even though we haven't met).

The rest of the day passed with me feeding my parking meter, nearly spraining my ankle in a pothole, and developing a migraine that kept me from eating much at the awesome restaurant Regan picked (I am certain she now thinks I try to eat like a supermodel  when I was actually dying to munch down on the waffle fries she ordered), until it was time to drive across downtown to meet up with Jennie and her mom at the Friday Night Lights outdoor screening.  Let me make a long sub-story short (heh, like I'm slowing down on the overall story) and tell you that one of the circles of hell surely must be trying to park in Austin, Texas, on a Friday night.  I drove around for - no joke - an hour trying to find someplace I didn't think I'd get towed before I gave up and went back to celeb-watch in the hotel lobby.  Jennie assured me the evening was more about swatting mosquitoes than hanging out with actors.  I'm taking that cold comfort.

*Brisk clap* OK, Saturday.  Regan and I rendezvoused with Jennie, her mom, and Erica that morning, then went off to the screening we wanted to see.  First up for me was a conversation with Fonzie himself, Henry Winkler.  I felt like last year's luck was riding with me, and sure enough, I scored a front row center seat.  The man is exactly who you want him to be - kind, self-deprecating, truthful, and a fantastic storyteller.  He spoke for an hour and then took questions.  Remembering my new tactic, I stuck my hand in the air, ready to use the line I'd worked on a few days prior.  When he pointed at me, I told him that my husband had me promised that if I got to speak to him, I'd tell him that he was Chris's role model growing up, and what did he think of that title.  First, he asked my name and Chris's name, answered the question, and then said, "Give Chris my best."  Classy.  (There's a YouTube video of the talk and at 50:20, you can see the exchange.  Chris actually got choked up when I showed him.  Softie.)

 You look' at me? Wait, wrong show.

 The Fonz showed up for a moment.  It was greaaaaaayyyyyyt.  (Too much?)

They ushered us out of the theater before I could get a picture with the man, which is one of the great tragedies of the event for me.  Sigh.

Next was a reunion for the cast of Everwood.  I know you didn't watch t, but you've probably seen at least one actor in another role.  Treat Williams - heard of him?  He wasn't there, but he was in the show.  Again, I scored front row seats and lo, it was very cool.  So many of the cast came that I couldn't get them all in a picture, and those that couldn't come sent videos.  About three quarters of the way through, Chris Pratt, another cast member who couldn't be there, called via Facetime to David Hudgins, who was moderating, so we got to hear from him "live" as well.  What a neat little surprise.  And I asked a question again (pats self on back for hutzpah).

 Just a few of them.  No one has aged.

Isn't technology cool?

A note about David Hudgins.  He moderated the Friday Night Lights panel last year and Everwood this year, and he is just my favorite.  It's obvious why he is such a successful TV writer, plus he's fabulously witty in person.  I could with him for hours.  David, call me!  Heck, hire me! I work cheap and make good coffee.

That was all I had on tap officially, but Jennie and her mom (Peggy, I suppose I should use her actual name) were going to the Parenthood panel and could save me a seat since they had special golden ticketed and I didn't.  And it's a good thing because they had to turn people away from this one.  Why? Well, it's a really good show but also because Lauren Graham and Peter Krause surprisingly showed up.  This Q&A was entirely too short, of course.  Also, Ray Romano is on the show and was there for just about every panel, so bonus there.  (Love the man, but he seemed awfully uncomfortable talking to people about the work he's chosen to do with his life and also he could shave and put on a nicer shirt once in awhile since he's not inside his house.)

 

 I wanted to put these side by side, but apparently, this is where technology breaks down for me.

Then I did some people watching in the hotel lobby while Jennie and Peggy went back to their hotel and Regan and Erica were embarrassing Sean Astin at his show's premiere, and I finally scored a picture with some famous people.

Mission accomplished.  This is mostly for my dad, who watches Rookie Blue and Grey's Anatomy and therefore knows Gregory Smith and Sarah Drew.  I managed to get this by offering to take a picture for the girl who originally approached them and them asking her to return the favor.  Clever, yes?

I'd like to take a moment to award Sarah Drew the Connie Britton Award for Hair Excellence at this year's festival.

Sunday, I had a golden ticket to the reunion of the cast of Roswell (I know, you didn't watch that either), but I knew this was one of the biggest tickets of the weekend and it was in one of the smallest venues, so I wanted to make sure I was early enough to get a good seat.  That's when I had to brilliant idea to check out the Goldbergs screening which was happing immediately prior to the reunion in the same room.  I'd seen a few segments of the Goldbergs over the season, but this was the first full episode I's seen, and it's pretty adorable, and not only because it was about the son doing karate to his own neat kind of like Sammy.  It's charming and brought back a lot or memories for this 80s raised kid.  I think I'll watch more next season.

I saw Wendy McLendon-Covey at the hotel Saturday, and I didn't recognize her.  I thought I was watching some CW starlet get hounded by festival goers, and was shocked when I realized she plays a mom of teens on TV.  You go, WMC.

The Roswell reunion was good, although I think I'd prefer clips over the life of the show to watch the pilot in its entirety.  Another cast member (Jason Fehr) surprised the audience, and it was clear they all loved each other still (except for Katharine Heigel , who was neither there nor mentioned, so it makes you go hmm...), which makes for a nice experience.  The real cock-your-head-and-raise-your-eyebrow moment was when the last question asker turned out to be Snooki.  Yes, that Snooki.  I guess she has enough slush fund to fly down to Austin to reminisce about a TV show she once watched.  Key, whatever.  She's a fan.

They look the same.  15 years later, I do not look the same.

 

Another note: Jason Katims is a supremely talented showrunner and I'll watch almost anything with his name attached, but he should probably take a public speaking seminar.  

OK, enough recap.  I had a wonderful time staying with Regan and cannot thank her enough for giving me a roof over my head and coffee in the morning.  He children a ridiculously gorgeous and her husband very gracious to let a random internet stranger come into his house for 2 days.  I really wish she was my next door neighbor (and that Erica lived on the other side, she's just that awesome, too).  It would be the snark center of the world.  Ladies, you are the best.  Please come visit me anytime.  And Erica, I apologize for teasing you about your Ray Romano affection.  You have excellent taste and are not at all stalkery (he would totally talk to you).  I also loved hanging out with Jennie and Peggy some more and hope that continues when our book club get back up to speed.  Hey, did Snooki write a book?  Should we read that next?

Let me show you the fantastic picture of Regan and me:

And Erica and me:

And Jennie, Peggy, and me:

And Ray Romano and me:

Yeah, I failed big time on the picture and it pains me.  I WILL do better next time.

Which won't be next year.  It killed me not to buy an advance ticket with this wonderful ladies, but I already know I have a conflict next year.  Even though it's a REALLY good reason, it's still a bitter pill to swallow.  But you better believe I'm writing in 2016 in red marker on my calendar and tasking someone with buying my advance ticket when they go on sale at next year's festival.  Because my camera and I will be back, and I will be timidly yet certainly approaching Hollywood type people.  I'm coming for you.

Look.  Snook.

Now with Video

I don't like photographs of myself.  That's why I always volunteer to take the pictures.  So I sure don't want to star in any videos.  And yet, here we are.  The lovely organizers of the Blathering that I'll be attending in fairly short order have posted a list of questions for us to answer on tape, so to speak.  Now, I thought about copping out and just writing out my responses, but then I thought about it and decided I was being a wuss and I should just go for it, you big ninny.  So I got out my camcorder (because I don't have a webcam and I'm not super iPad-savvy like my children who spend hours recording themselves sticking out their tongues, ahem) and filmed up a few minutes.

Notes: I have not watched this video.  It was bad enough making the thing, and if I actually sit through it, there's no way I would ever post it.  Also, this is not my first attempt.  I won't tell you how many times I tried to do this and screwed something up along the way, but the number, she is large.  But I finally got through a take (ha, don't I sound all video professional) that wasn't abominably long and where I didn't stutter too terribly much, and well, here.  

The things I do for the internet.  Seriously, you guys are the best and if you want a little video, I can oblige.  See you very soon, and I hope you don't suddenly have something very important to do in the other room the moment you see me.

 I look much younger and prettier in person.

Return of the Prodigal Blogger

Well, it seems I took a hiatus for most of the summer.  Whoops.  I really didn't mean to do that.

It was a good summer.  Busy, not as organized as I'd like, but good.  Fun.  Over a little bit too soon even.  I know lots of people who were really to toss their kids out of a moving vehicle come the first day of school, but I was sad watching them walk into the building.  I got used to our more free form days, and let's face, I wasn't so jazzed about having to get up at 6 AM for the next 9 months.  But that's neither here nor there, and now that we're settling into a school time routine, I can feel the calm a regular schedule brings.  Or at least "calm."  It's a relative term around here.

Notice I said kids - plural - walking into the school building - singular.  Both kids in the same school, same hours, legit.  This is weird to me.  I mean, they've both been going to school in some form for years, but now there are no more partial weeks or shortened hours or (thank heaven) individual  locations.  I walk them both to the elementary school, hug them goodbye (how long am I going to be allowed to do that?), and watch them go off together to their school.  Theirs.  Together.  This shouldn't feel strange, but it does, at least for now. 

Perhaps it my general, constant state of anxiety feeding itself.  I'm nothing if I don't have something to worry about.

Anyway.  Two kids in school.  Crazy busy summer.  Me, slightly and continually off my rocker.

Seeing as I've been off the grid (well, not really, I suppose I just ran away from this here space for awhile), I think I shall hit the highlights from the summer.  Because everybody loves a rundown of other's people vacations, right?

• I got especially worried about the onset of 3rd grade even before 2nd grade ended, so I planned all these lessons and projects and reading times for Sammy.  Yeah, that didn't exactly work out like I wanted.  But we did get some things done and I hope it gives him a head start this year.  As much as I detest our state's reliance on standardized tests (and that's a whole nuther blog post, letmetellya), they become a fact of life this year.  And so, I fret.  (Hopefully not in front of my sweet boy, who deserves to have a great year despite his neurotic mother.)

• Both kids took swim lessons again this year.  But unlike last year, they weren't such a good time.  Sabrina developed a sudden fear of not being able to touch the bottom of the pool and spent several days screaming at the top of her lungs.  The thing is, she can swim.  She just doesn't believe it.  If she forgets herself for a minute, she's a little fish.  Maybe next year she'll be able to get out of her head and just go with it.

No fear here.

• Sammy is a tall, gangly boy who doesn't quite realize he has arms and legs that he can control.  Sammy's swim instructor was a little bit bowled over by this, given that she was trying to get him to hit goals for Level 4 when he was only in Level 3, but he had fun anyway.  He's not going to be Michael Phelps, but he isn't going to drown, so I'm putting that in the Summer: Win column.

• Speaking of Sammy (and it's usually one or the other, isn't it?), he started karate this summer.  The studio had a summer special, and Chris was really keen on Sammy trying something athletic having something to occupy his time, so we signed him up.  In the back of my mind, I figured that since Sammy's usual attention span makes a gnat look thoughtful, this wouldn't last too long and maybe not even the whole summer (anyone who saw him play soccer remembers that he never actually knew where the ball was at any given time).  But boy, was I wrong.  He went to class - willingly - almost every day he could (and sometimes twice) and practiced his moves at home.  The instructor told me Sammy was doing everything he asked of him and more.  He even tested for and earned his yellow belt.  He loves it.  He talks about earning his black belt, which he knows will take several years.  Everyone says it's good for him.  And even though he still looks to me as though his brain and his limbs have very little connection, he's trying and learning and engaging.  So it looks like we'll be sticking with this (but oh, my bank account is crying).  It just might be his thing.

• We took our somewhat annual vacation pilgrimage to visit family again this year, but we changed it up to visit friends and relatives in other parts of the country.  We started off with a bang, by which I got to meet this lovely lady and her husband: 

Internet, I know you're jealous. (Thank you, Internet, for making this possible!)

• Then we headed off to see my great uncle Larry (that makes him the kids' great great uncle, for those playing the family relation game) and his whole family at a reunion of sorts.  Long story short (too late), my kids are ready to move in.  My cousin Katie (3rd? 4th? 17th twice removed? I have no idea) has three girls ages 4 to 7 1/2 (and a 1 year old boy), and I'm fairly sure that Sabrina thought she was becoming the 4th sister.  Peas and carrots, these girls.  We had a blast at my cousin Terrie's house, where the kids had free reign over a trampoline, playhouse, and  a swimming pool, not to mention several kid-sized vehicles they (ahem, Sammy) drove all over the property.  Sammy also made fast friends with Terrie's husband Jeff (grandpa to the aforementioned girls + boy), who has been waiting patiently for years to do boy things with a grandkid (not too much longer, Jeff - you've to two grandsons growing as fast as they can).  Sammy stepped into that role quite nicely.  Plus, basements.  Oh my lands, do my kids love a basement.  I'm pretty sure they're ready to start digging right now.  Sammy even asked for a basement for his birthday.  And I can't even get into the breathtaking joy that is a riding lawnmower.  Sammy heaven!

 

• We spent another few days with the rest of the extended family after the reunion, and you're think that might be peaceful, but no.  Road trips with us are never uneventful.  So for this edition, we were treated to a tornado.  But.  For one thing, it happened in the middle of the night and we never heard it because we were sleeping in a basement.  I love me some basement - the kids come by their fascination naturally - but now I'm just about ready to start digging, too.  Also, by our standard, this was a dinky tornado.  The vast majority of damage was to trees, and it was sad to see such beautiful things twisted and cracked, but no one was killed.  No one was even hurt, as a matter of fact.  The worst was a woman who had a panic attack.  Seriously, this was the news story.  A panic attack.  Perhaps my perspective is a bit skewed, living in tornado country, but no death equals victory in my book. (Also, the nerd in me took great pride in explaining the difference between straight line winds and tornadoes to my relatives.)
 

• There was also vacation bible school, lots of swimming, playing with friends, Sammy's 9th (!) birthday, and vast amounts of food, but this is getting incredibly long so I won't go into great detail.  Suffice it to say we did not stop going (or eating) for 3 solid months.

And with that, I shall close.  Just reading all that makes me tired all over.  Are you tired, too?  You should go take a nap.  Or have a cocktail.  Or both.  You deserve it.

Best Weekend Ever (and Lots of Hotness)

Well, it's been quite the busy weekend, what with weddings,births, and graduations.  I'm so happy for all of you, and I can't say that strongly enough.  There has just been a bounty of joy and love and happiness concentrated over the past few days, and it's wonderful.

My weekend was pretty darn awesome as well, even though it didn't include any life-changing events.  Well, maybe it did.

It's no secret that my entertainment of choice is television.  I've probably devoted way too large a percentage of my brain to TV trivia, my own personal TV history, and housing a veritable IMDB inside my head.  I know about shows, past and present and even ones I haven't watched.  It's just my thing.  So when I heard about the ATX Festival  - a weekend celebrating all things TV - I knew immediately that I needed to be a part of it.  Not that I bought my ticket 3 seconds later.  Oh no, that would have violated my intensely frugal nature (duh), my tendency to procrastinate and stew, and my penchant for putting everything possible before myself.  But I felt it call to me (or maybe that was just the voice of Jennie urging me along), and I hit purchase on a full access pass.  In October.  For June.

And then I waited.

Finally, the day arrived, and Jennie and I made tracks for the festival, where we met up with Erica (seriously, if you're going to a TV festival, there are no better 2 people to tag along behind - they are awesome).  This being only its second year, I really had no idea what to expect.  I had visions of long lines and huge throngs of fans and maybe getting to see an actor from a distance through binoculars.  So imagine my surprise when we moseyed our way into the theater for our first junket of the day, the Friday Night Lights cast panel, and sat right on down in the front row (Hey, Bob Uecker, look at me!).  Right before they released this hotness onto the stage.

And then I fanned myself.

They started the panel even though there were a couple of open seats at the table, but I figured (all I dared to imagine) that there was a couple of no shows.  Anyway, they showed up a favorite clip of the two lead actors, Connie Britton and Kyle Chandler, doing what they did (do) best, and I was just charmed.  Again, daring not to hope, but maybe, maybe, hey, there are 2 empty seats, what if -

GAH! HERE THEY COME! KYLE CHANDLER AND CONNIE BRITTON ARE 10 FEET AWAY FROM ME! 

And with that, the whole thing was made for me.  I could go home happy.  Wow.

Seriously, it was the best moment of the entire kit and kaboodle.  And only partly because I now had someone age appropriate to drool over.  They - all - were charming and funny and gracious and clearly appreciative of both the series that gave them this experience and this particular moment itself.  My only regrets were 1) that I did not have a single tissue to hand to the lovely Louanne Stephens (who played Grandma Saracen to perfection) when no one from the festival could produce one, and 2) that I didn't hang around to take pictures after the panel was through.  I would have loved some shots without a giant table in front of everyone.  But now I have goals.

Despite that being a crowning, heart attack inducing moment for the ages, it was only the beginning.  I got to see panels that included the never-aging Scott Wolf from Party of Five (and his equally darling co-stars Paula Devicq, Wilson Cruz, and Lacey Chabert, all growed up), Scott Porter (yes, again) and Wilson Bethel from Hart of Dixie (seriously with the hotness), and finally a cavalcade of talent (and hotness) from actors across the channels and years, whom I could list, but instead I'll just show you a picture so I can share the hotness:

Yes, I realize that I could be most of these whippersnappers' mother, but I can appreciate hotness and give it its due.  Nice job, actual mothers.  And also: Kyle and Joshua, we of slightly enhanced experience can hang out anytime.  We'll drink margaritas while the rest of them get carded.

By the time this final panel drew to a close, I decided to get over my inner timid mouse and make something of the moment.  I did now shrink out of the door and just stood there until I could make this happen:

And this:

I'm kind of proud of myself for not giving into my fear of people and of myself a fool of myself in front of said people and just going for the moment and the memory.  I mean, I probably did make a fool out of myself (at least to Jennie and Erica, but they didn't run screaming from me so I couldn't have been that bad, but then again, Jennie did need me to get home), and I still don't have the perfect line to make a celebrity instantly decide we should be the bestest of friends, but I'm not going to let that bother me.  I got to hug Joshua Malina and Scott Porter.  Kyle Chandler - next year, I'm coming for you.

Thanks to my husband for agreeing to my crazy scheme to make plans and pay money toward something that wouldn't happen for 8 months.  Thanks to Jennie for bringing this whole thing to my attention and actually encouraging me to join her in the marvelous madness.  Thanks to Erica for providing the best snarky comments and not calling security when I decided I was getting a picture with someone famous come hell or high water.  Thanks to security for not tackling me when I did just that, or for any one of the 243 pictures I took while flagrantly disobeying the no photography disclaimer (and also, ha, no photos - that's funny, 2013 TV conference).  Thanks to Natalie for sharing her home and family with us for a weekend (I'm pretty sure the coffee talk was as entertaining as all the TV bizness).  And thanks to the ATX Festival for existing.  Full stop.  

Excuse me while I go pack 14 boxes of Kleenex in my luggage for next year.